Don't Pass Me By
by im-an-amazingdan-fan
Summary: Phil's life was totally wrong. He worked a boring job, wore plain office suits and felt like life couldn't get any worse than now. But every morning, Phil makes a journey to see a stranger, brown haired with brown eyes, and a voice like no other. The boy busking on the street would be his only reason to live.


**Don't Pass Me By**

Every morning, I commute to work. To the office. To my desk. And I sit. For eight. Damn. Hours.

Don't ask why I still go; the only reasons. I'm awake at five each morning, brushing my teeth and eating the same dry toast. By seven, I'm hauling my bag onto my shoulder as I make my mad dash for the train, because I'm late after spending too long in the shower contemplating on a long, relaxing, unauthorised day off. My seven-twenty train takes me from Twickenham to Kensington every morning, and I walk the same way, each day, every day.

Except that was not the only reason I went.

Jumping off the dingy train onto the platform was something of a peak in my day. I knew that if I walked straight to work now, I would easily be half an hour early - which is why I don't go straight to work. Instead, I would make a major detour around the boastful city into the centre, where on the same corner, of the same shop front, I would find the same person who highlighted my day more than anything in the world. In fact, I would hate my Sunday morning simply because I wouldn't walk past the guy who made me smile.

His hair was swept to the side just like mine _used_ to be – before I was collared at work for being inappropriately presented. My now shorter and upswept hair was kept tidy and smart, while not adding ten years to my life, but his chestnut shade of hair put my old do to shame as it shaped his head perfectly. It was a little shorter on the sides, amplifying his heavily pierced ears, stretched and punctured to a point where I could not see how much further he could go. Yet it was spontaneous and I liked that.

With eyes to match his hair and a face that never in a year of passing changed; I knew that this added extra to my day was for keeps. He was taller than most, quite thin and lanky, though I couldn't tell if he towered myself or not while he sat on his stool by the wall, guitar in hand, blending each strum into a sweet yet saddening tune. His hands moved like they were born to glide from fret to fret, like he was naturally born to be a performer like nobody else.

For the last year I had visited this man, yet I never spoke to him. Why? His music was enough to tell a life story. It wasn't always what he sang either; this man could convey the deepest emotions through each syllable his amazing voice produced through gently lullaby-like tones that carried down the hustling street. I would always know before I even saw him that he was having a bad day, or he was in a good mood. Even though I wouldn't get wo find out why he felt that way, he was just brilliant. The story is I hadn't come across him purposefully either. In fact, on the first day of my job I managed to walk in the complete wrong direction, and like every other morning I had been captivated by him, vowing to follow this path just to brighten my boring day.

Today I sprung up to him, and his was close to finishing a song which made the whole street seem that bit duller. Today was not a good day. Although the sun was shining and the sky was calm, I could tell he felt agitated and restless today. His voice was a lot more jumper as he sang a tune a little faster paced and minor, and his face, was looking away from others surrounding him. He was in fact such a good singer that I was not his only fan – people tended to form a small but secure crowd around him which invited others along, making his day seem never ending.

I stepped closer to him, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the ten pound note I always put aside for him, placing it into his box. He looked up at me, and smiled in return. He always smiled when he looked at me.

The song finished and there were a few people who clapped and tossed their spare change into the open guitar case which I had just stepped back from. He bowed his head at a few, threw another smiling glance at me, and steadied himself into another song. The way his hands moved so effortlessly into place, not having to think about where they were going while he shuffled himself and waved at a young girl who had just followed suit with some coins.

This time the road burst into colour as he played a song that both confused me and made my day that bit brighter. His chords turned happier, his voice singing the perfect happy-day tune that a sunny July morning like this was deserving of. His voice thrived into a new sound that I never knew a person could reach, making me shiver lightly. His face pointed up, and he made eye contact with some people standing and watching, smiling as they topped and stared. He looked over at me more than anyone, and I felt myself go red.

His song ended much too quickly, though it seemed I had let time slip by without realising. What was usually a ten-minute walk to work I would now have to run to within the five minutes I had to sign in and be at my desk, ready to start the day selling insurance to random people who don't want it. I looked around frantically, but with no success of letting the man know I was going, I ran past him and many others who stared as I shot by, sprinting my way the grey offices ahead. The mood that had once existed for few precious moments had now evaporated.

I was just another businessman in a grey suit with a grey job and a grey life.

Eight hours passed and I could finally remove my card and sign out, switching the monitor off and pulling up my satchel, yawning widely and stretching, hearing the bones in my back click unhealthy. People seemed to be so horrible today. And everything that was dull just seemed duller.

I mean, I understand why. If you've ever gotten one of those dodgy calls trying to sell you PPI you don't need, ask if you've had an accident in the last five years, or want you to join their insurance/phone/TV company, then you know just how annoying these calls are. How dare these people call you in the middle of the day and disturb your peace? How dare they offer you a service you don't want?

You see, that's my job.

The phone dials a thousand times a day, the same drone, until a person picks up. Their number, which was randomly auto-generated, now being called and they hear my voice. I talk about my company offering 'personal tailored' insurance (Yeah right, just fancy words and make up for the same product as everybody else). I get personal, asking how they are, what they were doing today. Then I jump. Except I always miss. Today was a prime example, with people shouting more abuse than I knew ever existed, calling me every name under the sun, shouting that they didn't want to be disturbed, and having the phone cut off before I had drawn my breath. It wasn't exactly pleasant. But then again, neither was being poor. So I'm thankful.

I stepped outside and felt the patter of rain on my head. Its July. And it's raining. And I thought I would be okay to walk home in the evening sun, which was now hidden behind grey clouds. Great.

By time I had reached the train station, I was absolutely soaked to my skin. The rain persistently felt onto me, turning into a show I hadn't asked for and making the train journey one of the worst I could remember – at least I had an umbrella when it was _meant_ to rain. People gave me odd looks as my hair now lay flat against my head and dripped on the train floor, leaving a sorrowful puddle. I didn't make eye contact. At all.

Getting home was at least an upside to all of this. I walked through the door, stripping each layer of drenched clothing of and leaving it where it came off on the ground. I walked past the kitchen of food I didn't want, and past the shower I was too exhausted to use. The time was 8pm, yet I felt face first onto my bed, not taking a moment to get under the covers, falling asleep almost instantly.

This morning at least I wasn't in a haze. Having fallen asleep so early, my usual six hours of sleep turned into seven hours and an extra early start, enough time for me to actually eat and wash, finding a new dry suit and tie to wear.

In my drawers, much to my distaste, were white shirts and trousers and jumpers that ranged in greys and blacks themselves. I picked out the greyest suit I could find. Today I wouldn't stand out.

Surprisingly, my phone began ringing, and I was thrown straight into a business call that I wouldn't get away from throughout my whole journey to the train station. Reassuring my boss that I would be in work in half an hour was one thing, realising I wouldn't get to see my friend was another. What would he think if I didn't turn up?

Apparently I was now part of a corporate meeting that entailed my frame of work, teaching new people how to sell the company to random callers. Nothing I could find interesting. Also nothing I could avoid. I found myself later sat at the big meeting desk, papers sat in front of me, interviewing people who were meant to be perfect candidates for training. I pitied them. Some of them looked like bright young graduates, a whole future ahead of them and they're sat in the dullest firm you could think of, their bright personalities about the run down the drain as they get bullied down by strangers through a speaker. I could see my past self in some of them, young aspirations to be someone important in life.

It was soon almost three in the afternoon, and I began to envy them, as they walked out the door into the fresh air and sunshine outside, now probably free for the rest of the day. I had another few hours to kill. I began to gather my bag and work into a pile stepping up from the chair, my back feeling numb and sore.

"You're surely not going back to the office?" asked my boss, looking down his spectacles on me. He reminded me of some ancient librarian who didn't ever move from his chair for years. I nodded, slowing down. Normally he wouldn't question this, wanting every employee to work to the very last moment, longer if they had to. "No, you can go. You've been helpful this morning and you look tired. Go home and get some rest." Feeling my inside light up like a fire, I stuffed the sheets of paper and folders into my briefcase, its edges bursting, and walking out the stuffy interview room.

As I stepped out the doors earlier, I felt odd. Tired wasn't it either. I felt like I was floating, like I had more energy than required. It felt too early to go home.

Then I had an idea.

Stepping across the road, I walked back down the long way, looking for the face I had missed so much this morning as I walked the fast track to work. Around the steaming roads and bustling paths I burst with happiness.

There he was seated happily, his voice twiddling down the road sweetly and deep, singing soulfully and out to the road that no one listens to. An idea occurred – I would cross this silent barrier and talk to him finally, acquaint him and break the silence we had held for over a year. Today was the day.

My legs like jelly, I stepped forward unsteadily and quickly, feeling giddier and eager than a child with sweets. He looked up at me as I stepped in, close to his case. This time, I wouldn't just put money in his case. I would actually talk, made a friend, be someone he could speak to on the morning-

SMASH.

Like an absolute fool, my polished shoes caught on a cobble on the path, and I flew a foot in the air, before landing face down. My briefcase hit the ground heavily, and reached its tether.

All six folders and countless sheets flung out, pens scattering down the pavement and important documents floated carelessly down the road. Many people sniggered and giggled as they watched a fully grown man take flight and create a true _You've Been Framed_ moment. I scrambled to pick up all the loose sheets, stuffing them unto the shattered, peeling case. I stretched out to reach for the last sheet in sight when another hand snatched it up and held it out to me with many others.

My friend had stopped playing and had found the heart to help me amongst the crowds of passers-by who ignored my crippling fall.

"Umm… Thanks, that's helped so much" I said in an odd voice.

"No problem" the man replied, smiling and laughing. His voice was better than I thought.

When we straightened up, I knew the answer to my question. His boy towered awkwardly over me, easily looking down on me. My back cracked many times again, extremely loud.

"Well, that doesn't sound too healthy, does it," his voice seemed so happy and carefree.

"I spend about eight hours a day sat at an office chair, I guess it gets normal after a while" I laughed back, and we walked back to his spot, picking up pens as we passed by.

"Well, I spent around eight hours a day here myself, so I know that pain, trust me." He stood next to his box and turned around shyly, neither of us speaking for a few moments. We both laughed, myself rather nervously.

"I-I'm Phil, uhhm, Phil Lester" my voice cracked randomly; why was I acting so odd now, of all times.

"Dan Howell!" He replied quickly, holding out his hand.

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking, Dan intermittently playing random tunes while I picked us up some drinks from the nearby café. I quickly paid for them and returned just in time to hear him finish his beautiful serenade. He glanced at me and smiled, looking just as relieved as me holding the iced drinks in my hands and walking quickly towards him. It was extremely warm out, and he began to look rather peaky.

"Hey, it's nearly 4 in the afternoon… you can't have been playing this whole time? You'll be starving!" I exclaimed when he nodded. "Let's go somewhere, there's the little café around the corner or- "

"It's okay, I'm not too hungry" he said quickly. His feet shuffled uncomfortably.

"Oh… okay. When do you normally go home?" I asked, a little confused.

"Well, normally about three, but I was enjoying myself too much, I just wanted to stay a little longer, really." Dan's face went red and he looked away in embarrassment.

"let me get you something to eat, then we can sit down and talk, in a bit of shade, and relax" I plead. His eyes didn't make contact for a few moments, "Come on, you're tired" he nodded, and I smiled. I couldn't understand why he would be so embarrassed.

We sat down in a small Starbucks, and I ordered us something small to eat. Dan sat opposite me, looking around nervously. He didn't seem as comfortable as I had hoped, and he certainly didn't seem like himself.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You know… I don't expect you to do that" he replied, his eyes on the ground.

"What? Get you something to eat after being stood out there in the burning sun all day? Of course I was going to do that, you deserve it" smiling, I sat down and we looked around in silence for a few moments. The awkwardness has dropped again, and it didn't lift until we had finished our drinks. Dan had decided he had wanted to go home, as he was tired. I agreed it had been a long day, and we walked back to the train station, slowly breaking into a better conversation until we stopped at my platform. We looked at each other, faces gone out

"You…you catch the same train as me?" My voice broke into a half happy, half confused squawk as we asked each other same question.

"Yeah, I live quite close to Twickenham, but I can't busk down there, people always on their way at me, turning me from their doorstep. So I make my way here, its nicer and I've made my place. People like me here, even though it costs a bit more with travelling."

"Oh, I had no idea, we must just miss each other every morning, different trains but the same route, and on the evening possibly too."

"how strange is that? As if we manage to pass each other and don't even notice" Dan exclaimed laughing heartily. He had regained his confidence slightly.

"It's weird, to say I've been passing by yourself for over a year now!" I laughed back, a smile spreading across my face.

"A year? Has it really been that long?" he sounded surprised, looking at me.

"Yeah, I started working over a year ago, and it was the same day I started working that I made a wrong turn and ended up walking by you. I hardly ever walk the quickest route to work now, I always may my detour, each morning." I replied all in one breath, my face flushing as I realised what I had just said – I just admitted that I pretty much stalked him.

"Oh, I can't believe you do that, every morning. Just to walk past me as well!" he laughed, and I suddenly felt relieved. At least I didn't look such a stalker after all.

We stepped onto the train, and carried on talking, our conversation becoming more and more in depth as we neared the station stop where we both jumped off. I took his phone and put my number in, and looked into his eyes, which were searchingly skimming the rounds of people.

"Message me whenever you want, I'll still walk by but I don't get all that much time in the morning, but you have my number if you need it, okay?"

"Okay, I don't want to impose or anything…" Dan's voice faded away as he shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"No, you're not imposing. In fact, you'll be doing me a favour, I hardly talk to anybody anymore so the company would probably do me good. If you need anything, you've got my number. I've got to go now but just let me know you get back okay; you look very tired."

It was true, his eyes were red and dark, blue around the eyes showing just how tired he really was. Dan kept stifling yawns, and would normally play them off, but It was too obvious for him to cover.

We walked out separate ways, myself going south, and ten minutes late I was home. This time I didn't fling myself on my bed, exhausted and flat. My clothes weren't flung in the space where I took them off. The kitchen wasn't ignored and the shower was hotter than it was this morning as I showered away all the nerves until I was left with all the happy moments of today.

I had finally done it. the guy who had intrigued me for so long had become a friend, however odd he sometimes acted. Id acquainted the only person who seemed to matter in this place and finally I didn't feel as alone as I did yesterday when I had no but my bed. Dan was the dreamiest guy could ever think of. His eyes, his hair, just everything from his voice to his body captivated me. He had taken my heart already, and somehow, whether he felt the same way as I did, I would have to tell him how I felt. The ice would have to be broken.

There was a sense of De Ja Vu in the room as I reminisced on the last person I ever took an interest to. His name was john, and the day I met him, although not comparing to meeting Dan, I felt like I was on fire. He was funny, and bright, and smart; everything I wanted in a person. The day I told him how I felt happened to be the worst day of my life. He left me standing, holding onto my jaw after been punched. Straight men don't like their "straightness" to be compromised, apparently.

Dan couldn't be like that, could he?

It was around 11pm before I decided to make a move to sleep, knowing all too well that tomorrow wouldn't be another half day, and I would be back to being shouted at quicker than I could say insurance.

I had put my trousers and shirt back on after the shower, but barely did I manage to unbutton my shirt from its relaxed state when my phone surprisingly went off. I had a text from an unsaved number.

 _I'm sorry, I know this is late. I've just found out I've been evicted from my flat- something about a change in payments that I hadn't acknowledged. I haven't got anywhere to go; do you know where I could find a place?_

It took me a few moments to figure out who it was that had texted me. Dan was the only person who had my number. There was no way I had told anyone else about it. I decided to reply, sitting on the edge of my bed.

 _P: Dan? Is this you? If you need somewhere to stay, I've got a place here._

A few moments passed before he texts back.

 _D: Phil, I'm so sorry, I wasn't meant to send that to you. I don't want to make anything difficult for you, don't worry, I'll find somewhere_

 _P: you're not making anything difficult, I am more than happy to let you stay as long as you need. Where are you and I'll come find you_

 _D: I'm back at the train station, you really don't have to do this, you know that_

 _P: I'm on my way, hold on_

I threw on my coat and ran out into the road, chasing my way down the main street until the station was finally in sight.

There he was, stood at the front of the station doors, having just been pushed out by staff who were clearly trying to lock the doors. He leant against the wall, head down and hood up – but I knew it was him.

"Dan!" I called out. He looked up and stepped forward, allowing the light to flood his face. The street lamp brightened his features and I could see the tears smeared across his cheeks as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. He almost ran forward to me, throwing his arms around me before I had chance to comprehend what was happening. He sobbed into my shoulder, leaning on me. I hugged him tightly back. "you should have called" I said in an audible whisper as he shook.

"I-I didn't know w-what to do… he was stood there, w-wouldn't let me in, and t-told me I couldn't live there any l-longer" he couldn't talk from the tears and the sobbing he couldn't seem to control. I hushed him and didn't let go. We embraced for such a long time, hold onto each other as we were about slipped away if we let go for a moment.

"Come on, you're coming back with me. You're staying for as long as you need to, as well. No exceptions" I held onto him arm as I felt his breathing slow, and could trust him with a short walk back to my house, where I planned to make him his bed. We walked side by side for a few moments.

"where do you live? Is it close?" his voice carried on shaking.

"Yeah, we just walk up here and it's just off the street. Don't worry it's not much longer, I promise" I replied smoothly, trying not to frighten him too much.

"Phil, I need to tell you something." Dan gasped, speaking louder than he expected. He took a deep, prolonged breath. "today, when you offered to get me something to eat, I was embarrassed. I'm sorry if I acted off, it just makes me feel uncomfortable because I know I couldn't afford to do it in return. I have no money to do something like that, and now I haven't got anywhere to live. I didn't fit in there, because I couldn't afford to go there myself."

"I wouldn't expect you to do that" he was beating himself up over nothing.

"But I would want to. And I can't. It's embarrassing to think I have to get by singing on the street just to p-pay rent" This time he really shook, and I was almost certain he wouldn't make it to the house. Dan's legs seemed weaker than I had realised, and his jacket didn't hug his body, rather hanging to his shoulders and not reaching his waist.

We walked in more silence, crossing the now silent main road, where few cars could be seen in the distance. Dan stepped slightly behind, occasionally wiping his nose, and I kept my pace. My house was in sight. Walking up the pathway, I stopped at the front door, fumbling for my keys which of course had fallen down to the bottom of my pocket.

"Phil, you really don't have to do this. It might not work out for you…" Dan said quietly. I could feel him shuffling behind me.

"What do you mean? You can stay as long as you want to," I turned on my heel, sure that this time I would convince him to come in. "I honestly don't mind if you- "

My back slammed against the wall, my head being cupped just in time.

Dan moved in on me and pressed his lips against mine. His hands were holding my head almost too heavily and for a moment I didn't believe what was really happening.

Dan was kissing me, and I kissed back.

I was still weighed against the door, which for an everlasting moment disappeared, along with the ground, and the air, and the world. I was in a new dimension of life that didn't feel real, floating in the air like it was nothing. My body didn't feel as if it existed, rather in a tingly mess of what I thought as

Everything stopped moving, the trees didn't make a sound. cars froze in their place while lights would no longer flicker. The world froze when we touched, creating a sense of isolation and privacy that we would share together in this moment. The wind did not dispose us of our position as it silently caressed our faces, which did not leave contact for seconds which felt like nothing when we finally broke apart.

The ground found its way slowly back to my feet, and I was thrown back into reality – the reality that I had just kissed a near stranger on my doorstep.

We looked into each other's eyes, both with a huge amount of shock. Dan's face was light up with so much confusion and shock that his eyes were opened wide and his mouth hung open as he, like myself, didn't know what to do with what had just happened. Neither of us moved an inch, dare we even breath as we waited on another to make a reaction. But I knew what to do.

I leaned in, stopping just before we touched again. my hand moved to his neck, where I placed it gently, cupping his warm skin. I watched as his eyes drained from shock and we smiled, the creases at the edge of his eyes showing. This was right, this made everything right.

In my grey life, with grey suits and grey buildings, I had found my colour, the light that made everything so much brighter than grey. Dan had only to be in front of me like he was now, and I would feel complete, the world a different place to what it ever was for me, even when I had a colourful life, it had never been this… colourful.

My mouth met his, and the puzzle finally fit together.


End file.
